Behold this fairyland I do… do not let it out of your sight not even for a moment, for you never know when it might flee. It has such tendencies.
January 22nd 2026, 7.46 AM
Philosophy is for the inept. To contradict myself I intend not, but consider the following; meaning is dead, and its obituary has since blossomed in flames, up and away with the library of Alexandria and whole slew of other equally meaninglessly meaningful texts. We live in a post-lexical society, and that is a compromise I am willing to accept. Thus – philosophy is for the inept. Not morons, not the lesser-than – the inept. Those who bear not the capacity to respond to the big issues at hand – the ‘Philosophists,’ to deploy a coined term. I admit that I am an inept Philosophist myself, but that is precisely why I write to you on this wonderful, wonderful Monday afternoon. Philosophy is difficult, and why should I spoil my weekend in such a sorry manner? Today we’re focusing on the now and here, everyone. And the now and here is Monday, January 22nd 2007, Thermi, Thessaloniki, Greece.
Let me tell you a little something about Thermi; it is where it’s always citrus season, it is where the bees are in full bloom, and it is where the bunnies go to stay when the wind’s sent them astray. It is where poppies – oh, poppies – sprout through the cracks in the sidewalk, and it is where the pigeons are our friends. Had I brought along a godzillion western STDs in this long and winded journey of mine and wiped out 90% of the local population (there’s like four of them, anyway), you’d be well free to tout me Christopher Columbus the way I speak of my Española. And maybe I am the 21st century’s Columbus, after all – the century is yet short-lived, so I might as well have claimed the crown by some sick and twisted whim of nature. I do feel a sense of love emanating from every street corner, and the locals must be convinced that I am a godsent man or something of the like. But I do not truly think I’m all that – it’s just that this place is so full of love and affection that everybody in it has to feel special in one way or another. I have discovered a millennia-old marvel, oh, goodness gracious.
No, really – this place is bonkers. Either there exist a lot of bugs here and springtime has arrived a month early, or I am the bug attractor 3000 (oh, if I could attract ladies at a likewise rate…). Which one it is, I know not, but bugs swarm me as if I’m a well-cooked steak meal, and who am I to contravene? Let it be, way of nature, it must be seen. Besides, much like the pigeons (and the pigs), insects are my best buddies. They don’t bother me because I don’t bother them, and they don’t bother me because I am too much of a man to let them bother me. This manly quality of mine functions to morph me into a real man, much like Christopher Columbus was a real man. See? The link is definite and it is there, and it is also definitely there. I am not Spanish, though, nor am I ugly – that unfortunately remains, and it sets me apart from the conquistador I like to liken myself to as the town drowns all around. Yeah, me and the bugs co-exist peacefully, and for that, we are morally superior.
This place has also inspired in me much thought. It’s flooding my thought receptors with ever-substantial material, yet some of it is to use. For one, I feel so proud of myself… I’ve been through so much, and not only did I keep trucking, but I also wound up thriving. I have come to such a point in my life that I found it in me to go exploring, this time with something to find. And that “something” is none other than this very miracle I behold, this delight that I warmly hold to my cold, inhospitable heart. But one’s heart needs to be hospitable, doesn’t it? Otherwise, how would man be able to take glory for what it is – pure, unadulterated glory? Now’s your time to fetch your good spirits, for we are getting drunk this today. We are reaching out for majesty in a newly discovered land that is brimming with it, we lose all ability of verbal or cognitive displacement, and the only thing we know is the weight of the clouds. All we know is the warm embrace of the sunrays as they fall on our cigarette-scorched coats, the intoxicating scent of wet grass, and the wind-faded birdsong that goes fleeting at ear’s twitch. It is all most delightful, so go on, indulge, and breathe deep, do.
Train, train, another train and on! And oh, would you look at that – yet another train. Trains go by like the uncontrollable stream of strangers, prospective strangers and alike – time heals all wounds, and to the truth of that statement to assure you I am trying my very best. Trains go by like the seasons “thank God” do, and they don’t even run by all that fast. All hypertension comes undone as the car to Athens is ablaze, and you can’t help but wonder why anyone would willingly subject themselves to the city of Athens. Home is where the heart is, and at the moment, my heart is deep-rooted in the gleaming alleys of Thermi. My apartment – my de facto home – is far away, and equally far away are my loved ones and all my responsibilities; extremely liberating, that goes without saying. It’s all a little otherworldly, which is just my drift, if you couldn’t guess by my forehead tattoo that reads “escapist” in big bold print; font Times New Roman, because I am a classy lady. Athens is none of that, so I have to wonder, why would anyone go there? Are they stupid? But I digress – now and here, ladies and gentlemen, now and here. Dislocated trains yet somehow the other extreme of suburbia, warm cappuccino yet thirst-quenching water. In my mind, I am already there. This is as good as heaven, and it is perhaps the closest I’ll ever come to seeing the pearly gates. Maybe death isn’t greater than life, after all, and maybe – just maybe – the journey is more important than the destination, and not vice versa or equal. Maybe this, this right here – Thermi, Municipality of Thermi, Central Macedonia, Greece – is my Ithaca. Maybe this is just where I was destined to land, or maybe this is a layover on my way to even greater places accommodating even greater things (if God was oh-so-generous as to provide this planet with such a construction). I truly believe there’s something special in this terrain which, as it is, is willing to oh-so-generously split my burdens with me. I feel at peace, and I feel like a brand-new man. I’ve felt this way since roughly last December. The seasons go past like the trains oh my God train whew trains TRAINS! Year brings forth year brings forth year and time hangs heavy on my shoulders before I’ve even had the chance to grow a pair. There is simply no way that through all of this, I remain the same guy. No way crochet.
I change. I am changing, man, and I would say I’ve even gone as far as having changed. So, cue quarter life crisis; I’m old! I am getting old, and I need to morph into someone else entirely, for posterity! Posterity! That is just me (you can’t change me), and a reinvention was in order. I thought to myself, “2007 is my year, and a new man I have due at midnight! Happy new year!” I am currently in the process of identifying this new man in me, and wanders about surely help. We’re all wanderers, now are we not? No, you are not, but you could ostensibly become one – consult indoors. It’s an activity that allows one to think outside the box, enables him to think with conviction. Both of these elements are of utmost importance, as I will briefly go on to demonstrate.
On these two rails I spy on a railway in the bus, and quite frankly I believe that’s a pretty big deal. The signaler is smiling as he blinks his sweet ol’ blinkers at me, and the bus on this railway suddenly pulls back. A great ancient Chinese guy once said – and he’s still saying it to this very damn day – “I am, therefore I think.” I am convinced no other man could ever fathom such a peculiar ideal. He’s right, and you know it. The bus is aware and it is damn intelligent – I can’t put it any other way. How else would it know where it is going were it not a genius?
Silia 
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